The day the end began to show its evil face.

 

To watch family fall apart in front of your eyes, is a child’s worst nightmare. To see their parents fighting constantly, then never hear a makeup, but to only hear the silence that tries to fill that space that was left empty. To feel the brutality, of not only the physical blows from the parents hands, but to feel them emotionally as they see the trust that they once felt for their parents, fall away like their dreams that they once hoped for.

I was once a child that hoped, and was promised things only a princess could have. I was destined for great things once, with my intelligence and keen eye. Never was I able to blend in with a crowd, for my personality and expressions, set me far out. I once hoped to be like those teenagers and adults on TV, living the dream life.

Instead, I receive the knowledge that I may never grow up to be that scientist, but instead may become homeless. I would never find the right man that could heal my emotional wounds, but would instead die alone. Knowledge of darkness crept into my mind, planted by those whom I once had faith in. It was not normal life that was doing this, because I was able to achieve those things promised to me. I had the brains, the determination, courage, kindness, and ingenuity to achieve all that I wanted. Not many people did, but when I came of age, it became known to me that I had those things.

No, it was not life that set this darkness on me; it was my family. My parents and my two older sisters and I were once united, happy and gleeful. Now, we lay separated, broken, and hurt. Our story is a sad one, but it is real; real and horrible.

We all started out terrible. Never had any friends, would always become depressed, and would usually give up after a while. My eldest sister turned out to have the loveliest face anyone would ever lay eyes on. Boys would flock to her, attempting to win her affection. She adored it, and cherished it, but it was soon broken. Expectations that she could never meet were thrust on her, and she broke down. She found one man, stayed with him, but turned to other things to comfort her. Tobacco, alcohol, parties, and more. The addictive things that are like poison to a youths mind; clawing at their emotions and controls, eating all feeling, so that all that was left, was a dark, empty shell.

Trying not to fall into her big sisters steps was my middle sister. She also started out rough, but turned into another ravishing beauty. An amazing actress, but an even better singer. Her voice would be heard forever by everyone, and they would all be enchanted by just one note from her small frame. She ended up with her whole school in love with her, but was also broken under the pressure. Trying so hard to please her parents, she neglected everything else but her friends. She always did everything right, and tried never to be bad. But it all just got shoved back into her face by the tempers and bad situations that came up at home. After years of holding out, she cracked and just gave up.

Me? I didn’t turn out that great. People tell me that I look just like my sisters; beautiful, perfect, but not quite what they’re looking for. I spend my time in my room mostly, inventing machines, but keeping them secret. Drawing gorgeous drawings, but tearing them up so the world could never see them. Playing games that are set in times long past, trying to forget the life I live. My rough time is carrying on longer than my sisters did. I’m always struggling to pass my classes, but never seem to impress the teachers because I’m just not school material. I have a great dream, one that is hard to achieve because it is slightly strange and illegal.

You could tell that there was a time, a long time ago, that my parents were happy. They seemed like a couple that would always love each other, no matter what. I suspect different. When company is over, they put on nice things, and gorgeous smiles, followed by the play of the century. I’ve never seen such acting, and it is unlikely that I will ever find a match. When the farewells are said to the guests, all hell breaks loose. They don’t talk to each other unless they are yelling, and they hardly ever sleep in the same bed anymore. Their daily life consists of my mother working from home, late hours and early mornings. My father goes to work in the city, then comes home after 11 hours, and sits in front of the TV, hardly talking to anyone.

So now, as I sit in my room with my bed frame blocking the door, I can’t help but wonder; what happened to that family that once existed?